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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24521476">Wishing to be forgotten</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASweatyToothedMadman/pseuds/ASweatyToothedMadman'>ASweatyToothedMadman</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Mean Streets (1973)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon-Typical Violence, Catholicism, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Religious Conflict, Religious Guilt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:34:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,900</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24521476</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASweatyToothedMadman/pseuds/ASweatyToothedMadman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Johnny boy spends the night as he would usually, but this time it feels different. Charlie has a lot on his mind, but it would destroy him if he spoke it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Charlie Cappa/Johnny Boy Civello</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Wishing to be forgotten</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello, I wrote this while half asleep and all in one go so please keep that in mind <br/>I've watched this film, so many times and ran out of things to read so, of course, had to write my own</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>     It's raining hard outside. The news had said there would be a sprinkle or something, but it had ended up turning into an outright downpour. It was as though God had looked down and didn't like what he saw anymore. It's like how they would say that when it rained, an angel was crying. Over what? Charlie didn't know. He stared out the window in silence as the rain puddled below him on the streets. As he leaned up against the wall, he considered falling asleep where he sat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     It was never quiet in this city. He could still hear the distant honks of horns and the shouts of angry men. He didn't like it, but it was what was familiar to him. The noise reminded him that he was alive. It was the silence that scared him. Sometimes he would look out into the darkness and think of how he came to be in this life with breath in his lungs and a beating heart in his chest. His small part in this community, this family, the church even. He was trying so hard every day to make it right and follow his own morals, but there was always something that got in his way. These morals weren't even his anyway. He got it from some book. Some guy told him he had to do it this way or he would suffer. This code he went by, that kept his mind running at every hour of the day, was drilled into him ever since he took his first breath. He felt like he was broken. Being catholic was what he had always known. Yes, maybe he lapsed a bit here and there and didn't say all his prayers, but he was trying. It's not like anyone else in the neighborhood did any more than that. They all had their breaking points. He wanted to do good for others and in turn, be good himself. At least in god's eyes. Who really gave a fuck though? This is what led him to Johnny though. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     Johnny with his smart mouth and wild eyes. He shouldn't like him, much less help him. In fact, he kind of hated him. Hated him so much he couldn't help but stare. Charlie couldn't explain it. This man who filled him with such rage could fill his mind during the night with thoughts he would never repeat. Warm eyes staring back at him from above. It was dark, but he knew the other man was naked. And then he would wake up breathless with a guilty throb in his chest and wetness on his thigh. No one could know this. He prayed every time it happened, but it never seemed to go away.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     Johnny had stayed the night again. They had been out drinking and that turned into Johnny following Charlie home. The rain started then. Soft at first before growing in its rage. With a laugh, Johnny boy had asked if he could stay the night again. It's not like they'd done it more and more often. If he was honest, Johnny was over here more than he was at his own place. Charlie knew he didn't really get along with his mother and that's why he never really hung around there, but the details were always here or there with that guy. It's like you couldn't have a proper conversation before he would laugh it off or try to start a fight. He wished he hated him. Johnny did Charlie as much good as a bad dream. Exhilarating, but terrifying. Something you wake up from with a bad feeling in your stomach. </span>
  <span>Johnny boy lay in the bed snoring softly. He didn't really seem to mind the rain. Charlie loved the rain, but it put him on edge. Rain was bad news sometimes. Rain like this happened when someone died. He would never tell something like this to Johnny or even Theresa because they just never seemed to understand. Maybe Charlie fell towards a more spiritual line of thought. Maybe none of it mattered and it just helped to keep him sane. God knows he needed that. He should be in bed asleep right now, but the drumming of the rain outside feels like an icepick to his head. Behind him, the bed creaks and he knows Johnny is awake. He didn't even bother turning around, choosing to press a hand against the cold glass and bring it back to touch his face. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Charlie?" he heard across the room followed by more noises.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>"The fuck are you doing up? A little rain got you scared?" Johnny laughed and Charlie couldn't help but crack a grin before turning to face him. Johnny was sitting up on the bed now, dressed only in his underwear and that old white tank top. His hair looked a mess and he had dark rings underneath his eyes. Charlie cursed himself internally, looking away quickly before he would have to explain his staring. There was something about Johnny that filled him with a want that he couldn't explain. At first, he thought it had been a want to help. But he had helped, god he helped way more than he should have. There was still a deep burning in his chest, like a weight he couldn't lift. Sometimes, as they lie side by side in the dark, Charlie would wonder how it would feel to take Johnny into his arms. To hold him like he would hold Theresa. To fully look at him without the worry of being caught. He shouldn't be thinking about this. He hadn't answered.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Ah, no," Charlie chuckled, looking back outside briefly before looking back to Johnny. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Just heard some noises outside and went to go take a look. Been raining pretty hard out there," Johnny boy smirked at this </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Eh, they better watch themselves out there, you never seen no fighting in the rain, Charlie. All that slippin and slidin those fuckers knock themselves out like it's nothin," Johnny gets up from the bed and walks out of the room as he continues. Charlie smiles to himself. </span>
  <span>From the other room, Johnny shouts something about how he has no fuckin food as though he forgets that every time he leaves. Johnny walks back into the room just as he had left, sitting back down on the bed. There wasn't really that much to do at this hour anyway, so might as well get back to bed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, Charlie? Why don't you come on here to bed, huh? I see you staring out the window thinking all the time and you're gonna have smoke comin out your ears or something, man." Johnny boy said with an edge, but softness in his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, you're one to talk, tough guy. Thinking too much? How bout you start thinking more. Jesus Christ." Charlie barked back, getting up from where he sat on the floor. Johnny was howling along as he always did, calling him a fucker and a prick. Charlie grinned, </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Alright alright. Get in then will ya?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With this, Johnny hopped under the covers. He pulled them right up to his chin and fluttered his eyes at Charlie.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, honey. How about a kiss goodnight." he joked, but it hit Charlie in the gut in a way it shouldn't have. He tried his best to laugh it off.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, you shut the fuck up, will ya." he groaned, getting under the covers beside him. The two laughed until they slowly settled into the new silence. It had stopped raining.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     Now it was dark and completely silent. He could hear Johnny's soft breathing beside him but didn't dare look. It took everything in his to fight the will to turn and take a peek. He could feel Johnny looking at him. In a way, he almost wanted to think Johnny wanted it too. That somehow he felt the same way. Maybe Johnny also woke up breathless with another man on his mind. It could never be true though and if it were, it was something that could never happen. Maybe this was his punishment, maybe he deserved this. He eventually fell asleep like this with only one thing on his mind. Johnny.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     Charlie woke to bright light falling in through the window. How long had he slept? The birds sang their songs and quiet chatter echoed up off the streets. They didn't know what happened up above them. This little life Charlie had. The moments he spent with Theresa. The nights he shared with Johnny. This felt comfortable, like their own little space cut out from all the others. Again, he felt Johnny's eyes on his.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You're up," Charlie said softly, eyes trained on the ceiling. He couldn't look. In a way, that was a defeat to himself. A defeat to everything that tempted him. Johnny boy hummed back in response.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Charlie, we gotta talk about something,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"The fuck you wanna talk about. You're the one always running away from things. Making things real tough sometimes, Johnny." Charlie grumbled. He knew he was deflecting. There was this bad mood starting to settle on his mind. It's like he couldn't allow himself to be content.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Come on, Charlie,"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie turned his head now, glancing over at Johnny beside him. He looked like he was half asleep still and there was this warmth in his eyes he'd never seen before. Or maybe he had, but he had tried his hardest to forget.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I heard you, Charlie," Johnny said matter of fact, his eyes boring into</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie's across from him. Charlie's blood ran cold. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What do you mean you heard me? What the fuck is that supposed to even mean, huh?" he wanted to look away. He wanted to get up and pretend it had never happened. Johnny boy didn't move. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't play fuckin stupid, man. I heard you, you were saying my name. I thought you wanted to talk, maybe bust my fuckin balls about the money, but you were asleep," Charlie didn't answer. He just got out of bed and excused himself to the bathroom.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     Charlie leaned heavily against the sink, refusing to meet his own eyes in the mirror. He didn't hear Johnny follow behind him and he hoped to himself that he would just leave. It would just make things easier for both of them. His feelings toward Johnny had never been an outward issue. They were just his thoughts that would never see the light of day. If he prayed hard enough, they were forgotten. It was just his lapse in judgment, not a true judge of his character. If it fell over into his dreams? fine. No one needed to know, but he had to be careful about it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Now, Johnny knew something. He had said his name, but what else? That was the difference between just a normal explanation and pure embarrassment. If it had just been a murmur of a name what was there really to worry about. People talk in their sleep all the time and it could be something as simple as a scene at a park. Maybe he could pin it as a deep worry he has or something of that sort. On the other hand, if he had so much as groaned, it was over. There is no masking the obvious. There was a soft knock at the door. Johnny had stayed after all.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Charlie," he began, "I get you're embarrassed or something, but I'd really like to talk to you. It's alright,"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie nearly laughed. Johnny boy trying to comfort and reason with him, it was almost a shock.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, no, I'm fine. Just go on, John, it's nothing to worry about. Just drop it, ok?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Charlie-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I said drop it! Do you ever fucking listen, you idiot!" now Charlie was yelling. That deep anger he knew came bubbling up into his chest and he almost wanted to cry. He wanted so bad to let Johnny in. Open the door and pull him into his arms. Kiss him until his lungs burned until he felt faint. He couldn't though. He could never do that. His relationship with Theresa was bad enough, if they heard about this it'd be the end for him. All he had was his guilt.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     Charlie looked up at the mirror and saw streaks of his own tears going down his cheeks. What a mess he had made of things. He was able to keep it separate for so long and now things were falling apart all around him. Was the world ending? no, not exactly. But, Johnny was one to talk and to laugh. Charlie had such a pure reputation (at least pure for someone like him living where he lives) and if this got out to anyone at all, he'd be dead. He started to pray to himself silently to anyone that would listen. To help him, to clean his impure thoughts and remove him from this mess he created.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Please open the door, Charlie,"  came Johnny's voice again. There was a pause before the door handle started to move. It was as though he were testing to see what Charlie would do. He just stood there and let the door be opened. He quickly wiped the tears from his eyes and looked back at the sink before Johnny stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"If you tell anyone, you're dead," Charlie said, not moving. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I won't, come on it's not that bad. I mean..." he trailed off and Charlie scoffed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, go on then. Laugh it up, big guy. What did you hear? I bet you loved listening to every little bit of it, a nice joke to tell the guys?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"No...no. Charlie, I'm trying to tell you I understand. I get it,"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie spun around on his heels to face Johnny in a rage. It didn't matter that it looked like he had been crying. The look in Johnny's eyes stopped him dead in his tracks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     Neither of them said a word and Johnny loomed over Charlie. He never thought about their height difference, but the three or so inches felt really apparent here. They stood like that, staring at each other wordlessly. He couldn't help himself now and slowly reached out to caress Johnny's cheek. It was soft with a slight scratch to it in the places he hadn't fully shaved. Johnny watched him with dark eyes as he moved his hand up to push back the hair off his forehead. They were so close now with Charlie pressed back against the sink and Johnny only inches in front. He could step forward and press his face into the side of his neck. Close his eyes and forget who he was and where they were. Before he could stop himself, Charlie reached out again and placed another hand on Johnny's bicep. Slowly he leaned forward, pressing his face into his chest, into the front of his old shirt. He breathed in deeply as Johnny's arms closed around him. He smelled of cigarettes and sweat and the warmth coming off him made Charlie dizzy. He felt Johnny rest his head on his shoulder and felt his lips kiss his skin. Closing his eyes at the sensation, he wished it were a dream.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     Johnny kept kissing the same spot over and over as though he were trying to send a message. Charlie didn't mind though and in this moment he let himself go. With his eyes shut, it was as though he were asleep and in a few moments he would wake to find Johnny no longer there. But when he opened his eyes, all he saw was the soft rise and fall of the chest in front of him. Neither of them wanted to speak. Johnny had stopped and stuck to resting his head on Charlie's shoulder, his breath coming out hot on his ear. He felt watched, but this time it was welcomed. He wanted Johnny to look. To want what he wanted. He would never say it out loud.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Can I kiss you?" Johnny whispered after a while. Charlie could only nod. He watched as Johnny lifted his head and placed a hand on Charlie's cheek as he studied his face. It was as though they were looking at each other for the first time and he felt as though he were dying. Johnny leaned in and kissed him firmly, closing his eyes right away. Charlie kept his open as the act finally set in. This was really happening. He should be pushing Johnny away and leaving. He should go into the church and pray until he forgets what his lips felt like. Instead, he closes his eyes and presses back. They kiss until they’re breathless. Charlie finds himself pinned against the sink as Johnny kisses along his neck. In this daze, he felt something solid pressing against his upper thigh and is shoved out of his fantasy. He couldn't do it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"We need to stop," Charlie said suddenly and Johnny froze, backing away slowly. Charlie could feel his face heating up and felt this immense guilt settle on his chest. He felt like he couldn’t speak. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I need you to leave," and Johnny boy didn't stop for a second before turning around and going to put on his clothes before heading out the door.</span>
</p>
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